


That Inquisitor, a romantic

by PinkAfroPuffs



Series: The Scorching Inquisitor (Side B) [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Assassination attempts, Dancing, M/M, letting celene die like the snake she is!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:24:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkAfroPuffs/pseuds/PinkAfroPuffs
Summary: Balls are only good for one thing. No, not that thing. And not that, either. Dancing. Balls are only good for dancing.





	That Inquisitor, a romantic

After a brief chat with Celene, Mamoru knew that it would be a service to the country- and the elves- to let the assassination against her be carried out.

In the meantime, he navigated important nobles- mostly in masks- listening to gossip here and there, up until he found the secret library. It was here that he realized that they would be having some fun after all. 

The ball was, in essence, beautiful, but as the Inquisitor chatted with miscellaneous guests and his advisors, it struck him that though he hated these stuck up Orlesians, parties like this were only good for one thing, and he was going to make sure he got it. 

“Bull!” He wished he didn’t think silly things about the Qunari, like how dashing he looked in the outfit that Mamoru hated wearing himself, or how much he wanted to kiss him in front of the room of stuffy humans regardless of what they thought, but when he saw him standing near the refreshment table they flew back into his head in a rush. 

The Iron Bull was doing little more than tolerating the event (much like everyone except Josephine and Leliana) and practically lit up when he saw Mamoru, which made him a bit bashful, though he dared not show it. “Hey, boss. Find out anything new?”

He was rather pleased to give him the details on the situation, what with the secret library and the halla statuettes he’d found, but after that was done, he said, “But...I wanted to ask you something else. Other than work.”

“Yeah?” They had been officially dating for less than two months, and though Mamoru found himself happier than he could express, he had the sinking suspicion (more like anxiety) that he might have had a bit  _ too _ many expectations for Bull. Despite this, the Qunari had taken them in stride- really, that was what worried the Inquisitor most. That Bull wasn’t getting anything out of their relationship.

“Any interest in a dance? After we’re done with all of the murdery stuff?” He wouldn’t have minded if the answer was no; being near The Iron Bull, listening to his horrible jokes, making him laugh,  _ those _ were things he needed, not a dance. 

His hearty laugh sort of surprised him, though Mamoru was prepared for a ‘maybe next time’. “Ohhhh shit, the nobles would love that. Just think of Josephine trying to explain-” The man was absolutely  _ delighted _ at the theoreticals of all of it. 

Mamoru hadn’t even considered that, actually, and his eyebrows went up at the thought of it. Though he was good with his words, the Inquisitor was still an elf. And Bull was still a Qunari. It would sound a little funny to some people. 

One scan of his face stopped him, though, before Mamoru could say anything. “Wait. You’re serious?”

Trying very hard not to laugh, the Inquisitor pressed his lips together. “Well-”

“Because if so, then...yeah, absolutely! I mean, once we stop the assassins and all that.”

He shouldn’t blush. That would be silly- after all, they’d already done a lot of... _ intimate _ things already, so something like this was….! But his ears still burned a bit as he swept the free-flowing fluff of his white hair over them. “I’ll be waitin’ for you at the end of the night, then.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

*****

There was blood stuck in his hair after the fight with Florianne. Though it had been slicked back at the beginning of the night, the gel he’d used had come loose because of his sweat, and his floppy bangs hung in his face again. Somehow, gunk had hardened and stuck itself in his hair in a way he could only get out with a powerwash, which he wasn’t going to get at the palace. As he leaned over the railing on the balcony, he lamented just how much effort had gone into putting someone new in power.

For all its beauties, Orlais was full of horrors. The demons were one thing; Mamoru could always handle demons. It was people that terrified him. People, too, who constantly let him down.

Mamoru stared at his hands, wondering if anyone should have so much power. Though Briala had finally gotten her due and was now Empress of Orlais though Gaspard, it felt upsetting. Bittersweet. 

He’d been good with his words; before she died, he’d exposed Florianne to the whole court, tipping over the king on a chessboard that was The Game, and cemented Orlais’ alliance with the Inquisition.  _ Those murderous shems. _ He breathed in through his nose, and then out. 

“I asked the guy if he was gonna refill the cheese dip, you know, the good one? And he just looked at me like an asshole.”

When The Iron Bull signalled his arrival and Morrigan left, an air of comfort washed over him. He leaned over the railing too, casual and comfortable, no longer wearing his ballroom clothing. Mamoru found himself smiling about it as he greeted him. “I sorta liked that stuff, too. What a prick, hm?” He gave him a once over, eyes tired as he took in Bull’s usual bare-chested fashion tastes. “You didn’t bother putting it back on, huh?”

“The monkey suit? Nah. I’m the Iron Bull, not the Iron Penguin,” he half smiled, but then it faded out of concern. “How’re you feeling?”

When he met his eye, Mamoru was unsure of how to answer. He felt like a sell out, somehow. Though he’d given the throne to Briala, Gaspard was a warmonger, and stupid besides. Orlais was for the elves, but only from the shadows. Did that really mean anything, being on the side of the Inquisition to make things right? Or did it just make more wrongs? “...like it’s been a very long day.” 

“Yeah. We did our job, though. Cullen’s calling everyone back, and we’re just about done here.” He stood up straight, Mamoru watching with one hand under his chin as he leaned back. “You still owe me that dance, though.”

The words surprised him. It felt like he’d asked Bull to dance with him centuries ago; what was it about this palace that made everything it in to damned complex and exhausting?

A part of him thought it was funny he remembered, and another chided that of course he did. Of course he would. Lovely, handsome Iron Bull. “Hah! You’re right. I almost forgot in the chaos.” 

“Come on. Music’s finally got a good enough beat to dance to,” he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, nudging him ever so slightly as Mamoru leaned into him. 

“Hm.” With a little chuckle, he teased, “Dancing at a ball with me ain’t too romantic for you, then?”

“Nah,” Bull smiled at him. “Just enough.” 


End file.
